The conversation had been embarrassing enough to live through once, and I had no desire to resurrect it, but I nodded to placate him.
“Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you?” he asked.
“I am sure,” I said, “but thank you.”
He nodded and started to turn away, but then something caught his eye behind me, and he stopped.
I followed his gaze to the bundle of lavender tied to my bedpost.
“I should have walked with you in the garden,” he said. “I am sorry you had to pick those alone.”
I frowned. I thoughthe’dpicked them for me and sent them to my room the night I’d pretended to have a headache. It had been these flowers, a small but sure token of his affection in my mind, that had encouraged me to persist in my ruse with Damon. But they hadn’t been from Ollie at all. And I knew, even without asking, that the flowers had been from Damon. For it had always been Damon who’d seen me, Damon who ran back to help me when I fell as a girl, and Damon who’d asked me to dance as an adult. The realization that it wasalwaysDamon brought clarity and confidence in my growing feelings.
Nora appeared at the door with a tray.
Ollie quickly stepped aside to allow her to enter, then he removed into the corridor. “Feel better,” he said, and then he left.
Nora set the tray on my bedside table. “Do you require anything else?”
“Actually, yes. A bit of paper and a quill. I believe when Lord Jennings learns of my illness, he will feel responsible. I would like to write him a note, telling him not to worry. Would you be so kind as to give it to him?”
“I would,” Nora said. “But he is gone, miss.”
“Yes, I know. You should give him the letter when hereturnsfrom his morning ride.”
She shook her head. “No. I mean he left for London early this morning with his father. I overheard a footman telling a housemaid in the kitchen.”
“Oh.” I tried to hide my surprise with a small smile. “Did the footman say why they left? Or when they will return?”
“No, miss. I’m sorry,” Nora said, and with a bob, she quit the room.
Damon was gone? And without word or warning.
Undesirable marriage.
I touched my cheek where Damon had kissed me and tried to push the words from my mind. Lord Winfield had spoken those words, not Damon, but they continued to fester. Although we’d shared candid conversations and a romantic dance yesterday, we did not have an understanding.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Every day for the nextweek, Ollie sent something up to my room to aid in my recovery. Some days he sent a book and other days he sent flowers. And finally, after a week of rest, my fever abated, and I regained my health.
But still, Damon did not return, nor did he write.
Sitting at my vanity table while Nora fixed my hair, I wondered what he might be doing in London. Perhaps he was seeing to matters of business with his father? Or this could be a social visit. Perhaps Lord Winfield was trying to entice Damon into taking up hisfamilial obligationsto marry abeautifulandwell-bredyoung lady. Whatever the reason for his visit to London, the marriage-minded mothers would no doubt make the most of the future earl’s stay in the city. Would Damon dance with other women? Attend dinner parties? Go to the theater? I tried to shake the intrusive thoughts from my mind, but after a week of lying in bed, they’d become a near-constant plague.
“There,” Nora said. “All finished.”
I thanked her and walked to the breakfast room.
Lady Winfield looked up from her meal when I entered. “Hannah.” She brightened. “I am so glad you are well. This house has not felt the same without you up and about.” She motioned me over to the table.
A footman stepped forward to help me with my chair and then my food, and as he served me, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at Damon’s empty chair.
I missed him terribly. It was so strange; I’d lived years without him crossing my mind, but now I could hardly go a single moment without thinking about him. I felt silly that my feelings could be so changeable, but I could not deny that they had changed. Thoughchangeddid not feel like quite the right word to describe what had happened. It felt more like I’d discovered something that had always existed.
How could I have been so blind? And for so long.
“Hannah,” Lady Winfield said, pulling me out of my reverie. “I have invited Lady Rumford and her daughter over for tea, thinking Miss Atherton might lift your spirits after your illness, but perhaps I was overeager. Are you feeling well enough for a social call?”
